


A Frightful Patch of Waste Ground

by azure_horizon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, post-TGG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 21:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure_horizon/pseuds/azure_horizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah sees it on the news; the smoke; the fires; the police and she <i>knows</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Frightful Patch of Waste Ground

**Author's Note:**

> this is from a larger fic that I never did quite finish...

Sarah sees it on the news, sees the wrecked building and the fires and smoke and the police and she just _knows_. She’s there in less than fifteen minutes – it would have been sooner but it seemed as though everyone in the city of London was making their way to the scene of the explosion – and she’s somehow managed to push herself to the front of the crowd.

She sees Detective Inspector Lestrade, his face stained with the ash and smoke, his hair standing on end and as she watches, she sees him run his fingers through it again. He stands in the middle of a patch of rubble, one hand on his hip the other gripping his hair and even from the distance she can see the hopeless, panicked expression on his face. He spins on his foot, an agitated, hopeless motion and his hand falls to his mouth even as his eyes fix on one point that Sarah can’t bring herself to look at.

A siren whoops, another car joins the ménage already spread across the front of the... the destroyed public swimming pool and Sarah watches as Mrs Hudson steps out of the car, a female officer beside her. It takes a moment but Lestrade is then at her side and Sarah knows, she _knows_ what Lestrade is telling the older woman – she doesn’t need to see Mrs Hudson’s face fall, she doesn’t need to see the way the other woman almost buckles under her own weight.

It’s like she’s been stabbed in the chest and the pain blossoms across the bony cavern and she grips helplessly onto the person beside her in an effort to stop _herself_ from collapsing onto the ground. Because oh God, _oh God_ it doesn’t even bear thinking about that John could... that John and Sherlock...

There’s noise, too much of it but she still hears the bubble of shouts and exclamations but she can’t focus on the sights in front of her, can’t seem to get her eyes to focus and when she blinks, tears fall down her cheeks and then more and...

There’s commotion, the people behind her surging forward and she looks up and over, and Lestrade is rushing towards the building, paramedics just behind him and Sarah surges forward with the crowd the pain in her chest transforming and she doesn’t want to hope because that would be ridiculous because no one could survive that but she does hope because...

A crowd of four or five firemen exit the building and between them Lestrade and the paramedics are holding up two hobbling, bloodied figures – one tall, one taller still – and she can’t help the almost exultant cry that escapes her mouth.

They’re ushered towards the waiting ambulances and John’s legs give out a few times before he reaches one and Sarah watches as Lestrade manhandles Sherlock away from John to the other ambulance, the consultant’s protests heard from where she stands, over fifty feet away.


End file.
